Friday, May 26, 2006

Why I’m not writing much…

As ironic as it may seem, the title which I chose for this endeavor of useless web writing nonsense (read: blog), has become part of a theme as to why I am hardly ever writing anything. Let me try to clear that up for those not in my head. “The Frustration Chronicles” has become a stagnant pool of Internet water because I am frustrated. Make sense now? If it did before you should probably go visit a doctor…anyone that can follow my odd line of thinking more than once a day would do well do get themselves examined by a professional (and I use that term loosely – see below).I have been frustrated for many reasons. There are most likely too many subjects which I could rant on about for days that no one would read. But that isn’t the big problem. The bigger problem lies between my ears. My brain, as of late, seems to have taken a pseudo-sabbatical from letting me do any type of deep thought. I have trouble concentrating when I would like to write. Too many ideas? Too much rage? No, I don’t think that’s the problem. I think the problem is drug related. Yes folks, you heard me right, drug related. No, I’m not lucky enough to have access to good old fashioned street drugs. I’m talking about Rx. You know what I mean, you go see a doctor and they sit down with that little notepad in front of them, pen in hand…just itching…almost like a junkie to find the right words to write on that little pad so you can go to your pharmacy and get the new miracle drug of the week. I personally am fucking sick of it. I am, and have been, on a bit of a personal quest to get off of the multiple miracle drugs that these people have been putting me on for the last few years of my life. I am not the healthiest person on the planet, that is a given. What I want now though, is to get back to my normal, broken body without any of the daily miracle cure regimen.But I digress…the problem and the reason I want to get off the drugs is that I feel like I can’t think. Sometimes I don’t have any motivation. Okay, most of the time. I feel like a zombie. Trapped in this body. Walking about, doing nothing for no reason and not sure why. Is this possibly the real purpose of the new miracle drugs? It’s much easier to control a world full of (to quote myself) “unthinking, subservient robots”. I don’t know, maybe that’s not really what’s happening. I’m going to go see what’s on tv.